All That Glitters
by TheEpitome
Summary: To say that Rose and Scorpius have a troubled past is a bit of an understatement, but when Scorpius gets into a bit of a bind, he knows the only person he can count on is Rose. Will she be able to help or will secrets and lies get in the way?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: When I first decided to start another story Scorpius was originally going to be a Singer, but after further thought, I have decided that he needs to be a Quidditch Player. This story will not be family friendly. There will be sex, there will be vulgar words (mostly from Scorpius), so if that's not for you, you might not want to continue reading any further._

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><p><em>Chapter 1<em>

_-For Old Time's Sake-_

'_In another life, I would be your girl. We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world…_

_In another life I would make you stay, so I don't have to say you were the one that got away…'_

_The One That Got Away by Katy Perry_

_-Rose-_

It's been a long day. My feet ache, my head hurts where the pins have been holding my hair up too long, and my eyes are bleary from staring at case files. I unlock the door to my third story flat, so tired that I forgot that I could apparate, and ended up walking the five blocks to get home. I push open the door, and drop my keys in their typical spot on the smallish wall hanger that I keep for just such occasions. I pluck the pins out of my hair, breathing a sigh of relief as my hair tumbles down to my shoulders, falling gently into the longish bob style that I'd had Dominique cut it into a few weeks back. I head to the bedroom, kicking my heels off when I cross the threshold. I walk towards my closet, magically extended to hold all of my clothing and pull out an old T-shirt, pilfered from my dad about ten years ago when I was still in Hogwarts, and a pair of comfortable sweatpants.

I can hear a glass of wine calling my name, and I shuffle back into the kitchen. I reach into the wine chiller and grab a bottle at random, pleased when I realize that it's a decently aged white and pour myself a glass. I place the glass on the counter and put the bottle of wine back into the chiller, before grabbing the wine off of the counter and pressing my back against it. I close my eyes, and place the glass to my lips preparing for the first sip, when a horrifically loud pop erupts in my ears. I scream, dropping my wine glass and blindly searching for my wand, before I hear a snide chuckle. I open my eyes and groan when I see exactly who my visitor is.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is lounging in my kitchen door, his shoulder propped in the opening, smug smile gracing his aesthetically pleasing face. I shake my head, placing a hand against my pounding heart and willing it to calm down. While I wait, I take the time to covertly give Scorpius a critical once over. I haven't been physically near him for almost an entire year, since he was Best Man and I was Maid of Honor in Albus and Alice's wedding last summer. I stifle an appreciative sigh; Scorpius is a big man, tall with broad shoulders that have no problem filling out a doorway. At the moment he's wearing a green cardigan, with a white shirt over a pair of black trousers and he looks great. His white blonde hair is longish now, curling just slightly above the neck of his shirt, and his eyes, those stormy gray eyes, are just as captivating now as they were five years ago.

I shake my head slightly, kicking those images out of my head and reach for my wand to clean up the mess. Before I can reach it, Scorpius has flicked and swished and the kitchen is as good as new. I hear another; smaller pop and two wine glasses appear on my kitchen table, complete with white wine. He gestures at the table and pulls out a chair and I sit, wondering what he could possibly want. Scorpius and I haven't exactly been what one would call the best of friends, so a social call between the two of us is unprecedented. I take a sip of my wine, eyeing him over the glass with wary eyes. He takes a sip of his own wine, and under the brighter light of the lamp hanging over my kitchen table, I can better see the dark spots hovering underneath his eyes. He looks at me and rubs a hand down his face.

"What's going on, Scorpius? I haven't seen you in a year and now you just pop in out of nowhere?" His eyes flicker up to me, and I can see the tiredness hovering in their depths. Scorpius is the star seeker for Puddlemere United and is this year's pick for Seeker for the English National Team, every week he's featured in Witch Weekly with a new gorgeous witch on his arm. By all accounts he's living a charmed life, so I dont know why he's suddenly looking like the world is weighing down on him.

"I've gotten into a spot of trouble, Rose and I really need your help." He looks to the side quickly and I frown. Scorpius has never been one to mince words, usually saying whatever he wants to whomever he wants with little to no regard for what others feel.

"Well, what kind of trouble are you in? You can't just say something like that and not continue." I place the wine glass to the side, watching his long fingers run up and down the handle of his own goblet. The hand resting on the table clenches.

"I've been accused of using steroids. Completely untrue of course, but because I refuse to submit to testing of any kind, they automatically assume that I've done it." I picked up the wine glass and downed the rest of its contents in one gulp, before daring to look at him again.

"Why do you refuse to take the test, Malfoy? It makes no sense, if you're not actually using them." He had picked up his wine glass, but at my question he slammed it back down. I jumped, startled by the unusual show of emotion from the usually stoic man.

"It's an insult! I may be a Malfoy, but I have never lied. I've been playing for Puddlemere for the last ten years! My performance has been nothing short of perfect. And now, because I've been picked for the National Team I have to be on steroids?" I felt the anger roll off him, and sigh. Only a Malfoy would be this upset because his _honor _was questioned.

"Scorpius, as much as I would _love _to help you," I try to infuse as much sarcasm as possible into the word love, "I'm completely overrun at work. I don't have the time to help anyone else. I don't know if you noticed how late it was when I got home. Wait a second…how _did _you know that I would be home?" I feel my brows lowering in suspicion.

"I've saved you the trouble of having to tell your boss that you can't handle your other cases. I've paid him an excessive amount of money to reserve your services exclusively. Just until you get me off that is. I was in his office right before you left from work." He says this with all the calm superiority of someone used to getting their way without question.

I feel my mouth dropping and my blood heating. My mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish pulled out of water. I'm struggling to grasp the words that should be on the tip of my tongue, but I can't.

"I believe the words you're looking for are 'Thank You, Scorpius, for significantly lowering my workload.'" The smug expression on his face is what makes the absolute outrage boil over.

"You arrogant, ridiculously pompous prick! I can't believe that you would think this was acceptable! Why do you always have to do this? This, Scorpius, is the reason we're no longer together! You're high-handedness, your absolute certainty that everything you do is right." I feel my hands clenching into fists as I speak.

"Now, now Rose. Let's not bring the past into this. This is strictly a business arrangement, so let's keep it professional."

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><p><em>-Scorpius-<em>

She's always been the most beautiful when she's upset with me. I smile in amusement as she drags a hand through hair that's shorter and straighter than I remember it. I'd always loved the length of her hair, used to adore the way it felt on my skin when we'd finished shagging, cool on my heated skin. She's still so small, even in heels she only reaches the middle of my chest. It gives her a sense of fragility, that's completely ruined when you chance a glance at those navy eyes and realize she could take on the world. The over-sized shirt she's wearing has slipped slightly off of one shoulder, revealing a small bit of lightly freckled skin. I feel a reaction below my belt, and the smile slips off my face. One would think after five years my reaction to her would be different, but I see my body still acts like a randy teenager around her.

"Scorpius, I can't represent you. That would be a conflict of interest. We have a past. I couldn't in good conscious represent you." I laugh off her concern.

"Rose, everybody with eyes knows that you hate me. Our break up was highly publicized, or did you forget? '_Golden Girl and Bad Boy Spell Heartbreak_?'" I watch something flicker across her face at the mention of _The Prophet's_ front page headline when they got word of our demise. She looks away from me, and for a second I think I see tears, but when she snaps her eyes back they're as clear and direct as they ever were.

"Scorpius…I don't hate you. Whether you believe it or not, I really do want you to succeed, but I just can't work that closely with you. It won't be good for either one of us. We don't know how to play nice with one another." She picks up her empty wine glass and walks over to the sink, washing the glass without magic. I frown. Rose always reverts to the Muggle method of doing things when she's stressed or upset, a habit she says she picked up from her mother.

"Rose, I wouldn't be asking this of you, if I didn't think that you were my only option. I need your help. Don't make me swallow my pride." I drain the rest of my own wine and stand up, walking over to place the glass in the sink. She immediately starts washing that out too. I reach out to still her hand, confused as to why she was so upset.

Rose and I have a long history, most of it good. We'd surprised the Wizarding World, when we'd started dating fresh out of Hogwarts. We'd been an all-star couple. Rose had swiftly climbed her way up the ladder at the law firm she'd been hired at straight out of school, Aldebourne and Seymour, and I'd been recruited for Puddlemere before I'd ever left Hogwarts. Most of our exposure, however, had come from the fact that our parents were, quite notoriously, enemies. She'd been my most steadfast supporter, losing her voice at nearly every game, and I'd responded in kind by spoiling her senseless. Not with monetary things, Rose could and did buy everything she needed.

I'd given her all of my free time, surprised her regularly with home cooked meals, something I'd learned to do especially for her, moments spent just talking, to remind each other of the reality of our lives, something that always being trapped in the spotlight could sap away . And let's not forget the encounters behind closed doors. Rose was all fire when the lights dimmed. It wasn't until four years into our relationship that things took a turn for the worse. It was Rose who broke up with me, and I've never really understood why, but I do know that _The Prophet _got some excellent pictures of us having a serious row right outside of my house. The very next day pictures of the incident were plastered all over the media circuits, and Rose and I stopped talking to one another completely. I only run into her if I'm attending an event that Albus has invited me to, and even then we tend to stay on different sides of the room.

I snap myself out of my reverie and use my grip on her hand to turn her towards me. Her eyes are clear, but I can see the slight flush where she's been chewing her bottom lip. The color is high in her cheeks and her breathing is stunted. As much as I've tried to hold onto the animosity that I felt toward her immediately after the break up, every time I'm near her, a little more of it disappears.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to. But I didn't come to you because of a prior relationship, I came to you because I've followed your career, and you're one of the most successful young attorneys in all of London right now. I'll give you time to think about it. Owl me when you've made your decision."

She didn't say anything when I walked out of the door closing it gently behind me, before apparating off of the door step. I popped up in my own flat in Clapham and let out a sigh. I hadn't even thought of asking anyone else to represent me. I hadn't figured that Rose would actually refuse me. She's always had a soft heart; I guess I thought she would have helped me regardless of our past. I head up the stairs to my bedroom, dragging a hand through my hair. When I enter my bedroom, I sit on the edge of my bed and work the buttons on my shirt, shrugging it off and letting it drop to the floor, before standing and walking into the loo. I fiddle with the knobs in the shower, waiting for it to reach that perfect temperature. I shed my pants, leaving them in a heap on the cold tile floor, and step into the shower.

I lean my head against the glass pane of the shower wall, letting the warm water sluice down my skin. Rose…Merlin's Balls, she's only gotten more gorgeous with age. I close my eyes letting the image of her drift through my mind. The shorter hair really suited her, bought out the deep blue in her eyes and highlighted the brush of freckles on her cheeks. Her lips are still just as full and pink as I remember. She's gained a little weight, but it's in all the right places, giving her fuller breasts and rounder hips. I look down at myself and groan, realising that my daydreaming has led to an unfortunate situation. I push myself off of the shower wall and grab a washcloth, rubbing soap into it and quickly lathering my skin up.

I let the warm water rinse my skin clean and frown when I see that my situation has not gotten better. I sigh and reach down, grabbing my cock. I let my hand gently stroke my cock, lightly, barely touching the surface, up and down, and again, urging it forward, softly rubbing the sweet spot under the head. My eyes close momentarily and then open again, and I drag my gaze down. A drop of white sticky fluid emerges from the tip. I grasp it harder, starting to slide the skin up over the head, a relaxed stroke, maintaining a constant rhythm. I feel my mouth opens slightly, hear my breathing become heavier. My pace quickens. I stroke faster, speeding up until my hand is a blur in my vision. My strokes are long and go from the bottom of my cock to the top. I move my other hand to my balls, and squeeze them gently, pulling them away from my body.

My legs jerk and twitch and I have to steady myself. My hips rise up and then push back against the shower wall. The head of my cock is glossy now, the water adding a nice wetness. I let my hand slide up over my head and back down again, savoring the exquisite pleasure, the sensations filling me up. My body stiffens up and I can feeling myself on the precipice, for that moment, before a slight groan escapes my lips and I begin to cum. Strands of cum shoot out from my cock, one, two, three, and my hand rubs the cum that falls on my cock down it, sliding it slowly.

I release a breath, leaning heavily on the shower wall, waiting for my body to relax. When I'm finally under control I turn off the water, open the stall door, and reach for one of the thick cotton towels my mother had sent as a housewarming gift when I'd moved into this flat a few months ago. I wrap it around my waist, tucking the end in at my waist, before padding into my bedroom, the water dripping off of my skin being absorbed into the thick carpet. I head towards my closet, and grab a pair of silk boxers out of the built in drawers, sliding them on, and dropping the towel from my waist. I flop down on the bed, draping an arm over my eyes and wondering why Rose still had the power to excite me. I was slowly drifting off to sleep when I heard a gentle tapping on my window.

I rolled over and sat up when I caught sight of an owl. I hurried over and opened the window, the small owl came rushing in, dropping a small letter and then flying right back out. I picked up the note, turning it over. My heart sped up when I saw the seal, a small rose pressed into wax. I'd bought Rose that ring a million years ago, she'd always used it to seal her letters. I cracked the seal, and smiled when a rush of scent hit my nose. Whenever Rose sent a note she always dusted it gently with her perfume, a musky rose scent, she said it made people think of her, and she was right. Inside are only three words, they make my smile widen even more.

_I'll do it._

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><p><em>AN: This will be a blanket disclaimer for the fic: I do not own Harry Potter or any related merchandise, or characters created by J.K. Rowling. This fic will be written from the Point-Of-View of both Rose and Scorpius. I will include the song I feel best goes with the general point of the chapter at the beginning of each chapter. Feel free to YouTube it, while you read. Please enjoy…and don't forget to read and review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_~Memories~_

_~I hope when I get back from where I'm going you  
>Are still the one that I'm coming home to<br>Cause if you walk out that door  
>I'd be to blame~<em>

_Waitingstill by Musiq Soulchild_

_-Scorpius-_

I swallowed a groan as I grabbed onto the girl's slim hips and drove myself deep into her. She was a great shag, there was no denying that. I slid my hands up her sides to her breasts, enjoying the way her pale skin and rosy nipples contrast against my darker flesh. She emits a breathy sigh when I flick the taut buds of her nipples, and I clench my teeth, pushing back the inevitable. She's been shagging me for the past hour and I know I've made her come at least four times, but I want just one more before I'll let myself go. She flicks a head of red hair over her shoulder and drags a hand down her stomach, sliding it past the bare skin over her twat, and rubbing the sensitive nub that rests between her legs. I smile as her breathing quickens, as I feel the obvious clenching of her muscles. I feel the tremors start to shake her lithe frame, her nails digging into my shoulders and plunge harder. She gasps my name, a quiet breath, and shatters around me, milking my cock, and I groan, finally giving in to the pleasure.

She collapses on my chest, her breath rushing across my skin, and raising goose bumps. I scoot her off me, and swing my legs off the side of the bed frame, presenting her with my back. I hear rustling behind me and assume that she's gathering up the covers. Behind me I feel her arm lift as if to touch my back and I duck away immediately. I toe the floor until I feel my boxers and pick them up, carelessly sliding them up my legs. I don't want to be near her any longer then I have to. It was a mistake to come to her place, but at least I don't have to deal with her whining about wanting to spend the night.

"Scorpius? You aren't leaving just yet are you?" I hear the pout in her voice, but don't turn to face her. Instead I gather the rest of my clothing and head into the bathroom, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. I hear movement and assume that she is putting on her own clothes, hopefully to see me out.

The dark shadows under my eyes tell their own story and I splash water on my face in the hopes of livening myself up. I'd gone to a pub that one of my mates had just opened, and after quite a few pints, I'd seen red hair in the back of the pub, long and wavy, like Rose's was when we were together. I'd approached her slowly, sure that I had to be dreaming, that Rose couldn't have grown her hair out overnight, and I'd been right. When I'd gently touched her shoulder, afraid that the apparition would disappear if I moved too fast, was too rough with her, she'd turned and instead of the gorgeous navy eyes I'd been expecting, I was confronted with sparkling green orbs. I should have walked away then, but I'd been too entranced by the similarities, had had too much to drink, and I'd foolishly followed the girl home.

Sighing, I brush off the memories. It's too late to dwell on should have's. I take a quick shower, giving a cursory glance to the assortment of body washes, before grabbing the most masculine sounding of the lot, something called _Eucalyptus Spearmint_, and use my hands to wash my body, unwilling to use one of the washcloths that I see resting in the bathroom cabinet. The shower lasts for about fifteen minutes, the quickest I could manage and still be clean. I toss on the same clothes I'd worn last night, a pair of khakis and a slim fitting dress shirt in a shade of cerulean I'd taken to wearing after Rose said it complimented my eyes, and stroll out of the bathroom.

The sight that meets my eyes is surprising, but I'm not sure why. The girl, I still don't remember her name, is spread eagle on the bed, her open legs facing the bathroom, giving me an excellent view of her nakedness. She gives me an impish smile and a devilish wink, and then crooks a finger in my direction. I shake my head and toss her the towel I'd used to dry myself off, before striding out of the bedroom. I hear a loud, disgruntled groan and feel my lips quirk into a smile as I let myself out of the front door.

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><p><em>-Rose-<em>

I let out what had to be the loudest groan in the history of groans. Dominique laughed and continued to massage the shampoo into my hair. It's been a rough week. Since Scorpius had cleared my schedule, I've had quite a bit of free time, something that is very different for me. I'm used to working from nine in the morning to, every once in a while, eight in the evening. In the past week, I've cleaned my flat from top to bottom, read over Scorpius' case files, rearranged all the food in my cabinets by alphabetical order, read over Scorpius' case files, went for a quarter mile run every morning, read over Scorpius' case files, done more general busy work then I can ever remember, and then read over Scorpius' case files again. When Nicki had phoned to let me know that she had an opening on Friday, I'd jumped at the opportunity, I love being her test dummy. Every other Friday, if she can squeeze me in, I head over to the small salon she has in Hogsmeade, and allow her to try styles on me. Today, she's cutting me into a chin length bob, with just a "little swish" she says.

"Rosie, you seemed awfully relaxed when you walked in here today. Care to tell me why?"

I slit my eyes open, and find Nicki's bright blue eyes staring down at me. She's beautiful my cousin is, she takes after her mother, tall and willowy, with a strangely generous curve to her frame. She keeps her naturally wavy blonde hair long and usually down, so that even now it floats gently around her face, falling to the middle of her back. Her cheeks and lips always have a rosy tint to them, as if she's almost always slightly blushing; I blame it on her Veela heritage. It makes her look alluring and sexy, but at the same time innocent. Add in the fact that her voice has a husky note to it, as if she's just getting over a cold at all times, and it's no wonder Nicki has hordes of men sitting on her doorstep.

"You'll never believe who popped into my flat last week." I close my eyes again, enjoying the feeling of her talented fingers massaging my scalp, and the slight hint of mint in the shampoo she's using. I've also closed my eyes because I don't really want to see her reaction when I tell her the name of my mystery guest.

"Well, don't keep me waiting. Who was it?" She picks up the small hose attached to the sink and tests the water against her palm before turning it towards my hair.

"Scorpius." The spray nozzle jerks in her hand, and I squeeze my eyes tighter, both to block out the unexpected spray of water and the curiosity in her gaze.

"Why would Scorpius be coming to see you? And in your flat no less. You guys are clearly not the best of friends." She runs her hands through my hair, checking to make sure that all of the suds have been washed out, then taps my shoulder, the gesture that means it's time for me to sit up so she can dry my hair. I stand and head over to her chair and arrange the cape she's draped over me so I can freely move my hands. By the time she's washed out the shampoo bowl and headed back my way, I've decided to give her the short and sweet version.

"He just needs some help with a few contractual negotiations. You know Scorpius has never been too big on legalize, and he figures he can bum cheap work off of me." I see Nicki, flitting around behind me, trimming a little here, snipping a lot there. She glances up briefly and her eyes meet mine, I see a shadow of disbelief enter her gaze, before it's chased out, and I feel horribly bad, unspeakably guilty. Nicki is my best friend, we've been inseparable for almost all of our lives, and I've never lied to her about anything. She's one of the few people who knows the real reason I walked out on Scorpius all those years ago.

"Whatever you say Rosie, just….just be careful around Scorpius. I remember the way you were around him. You're different."

I nod solemnly, determined to abide by her request, determined to be honest in this, at the very least. The rest of the appointment was filled with inane chatter, gossip about the family, talk about the latest boy chasing after Nicki, and the depressing void that is my love life. By the time she's finished, cutting, coloring, and curling my hair, I feel much better. Nicki needs these biweekly appointments to practice new hairstyles; I need these appointments to get my feelings off of my chest. Nicki has become my therapist in the years that we've done this, listening to all of my complaints, wiping my tears when I can't help but cry, and eating Double Fudge Ice Cream with me when I'm really down.

When she flips me around so that I can see my reflection, I pause in the middle of my speech. I don't know how she does it, but I'm always flabbergasted by the way I look when Nicki's done with me. This time she's cut my hair so that it falls in beautiful sleek waves to just under my chin, where it curls in ever so slightly. There are streaks of a blonde like color running through my natural coppery red, enhancing the richness of the red, and making me look more like a strawberry blonde. I touch it softly; she always manages to keep my riotous curls under lock and key.

"Okay, this style should be really easy for you. Its wash and wear or flat iron and wear. If you wash it, your curls should peek through, but the shampoo I used is supposed to keep them from becoming to frizzy for the next couple of weeks, that way it'll still hold its shape. If you want to dress it up, just run a flat iron through it, following the part, and you'll look all gussied up."

I stand up, stretching slightly, and run a hand through the sleek bob, to get a feel for it. Nicki smacks my hand away, and I grin, before I walk around the styling chair, grabbing her in a tight hug. She hugs me back, and I can feel her hands rubbing my back softly, a reassuring gesture that tells me she can feel the turmoil I'm trying to hide. I step back and give her a small smile, grabbing my bag from the hook next to her styling station.

"Ring me sometime next week, and we'll meet for tea, okay?"

She gives me a quick smile, which I return along with a nod to acknowledge I heard what she said, before I Apparate out of her shop. The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla alert me to the fact that I've made it safely home. I drop my purse on the table close to the front door and kick off my shoes, leaving them on the mat next to the table. I haven't taken a shower all day, so I head back to my bedroom. When I reach my haven, the first room I ever decorated by myself, I smile. The walls were painted a light shade of gray, and all of the furniture was white. The bed, a plush sleigh bed, was decorated with a grey duvet cover with coral and white pillows tossed haphazardly around its surface. There were two wooden nightstands on either side of the bed, one of which I used as a vanity table. I undressed slowly, dropping each piece into the small wicker basket that doubled as my hamper, before walking into the bathroom.

When I'd first moved in, I'd had my father and brother install one of those showers that has the preset temperatures, and every time I get into the shower I am eternally grateful. The water pulsed down, and within five minutes the steam indicated that it was the temperature I preferred. I carefully brushed my hair up and out of the way, grabbing a shower cap from the linen closet, before stepping in and smiling in bliss. The shower was perfect. I sat there for a moment, simply letting the stream of hot water pulsing around me soothe away the aches I'd managed to accumulate from a week of running a quarter mile every day, before snagging the rose scented body wash and squeezing some into a body pouf. The familiar scent of it made me frown, and I shook my head trying to clear it. I hadn't realized until just now how many of my decisions Scorpius had influenced, had I? The first time I'd laid eyes on this body wash had been while at the mall with Scorpius.

* * *

><p><em>The day had been excellent. Scorpius had surprised me in bed this morning, with breakfast and a little something extra, I felt my face heating just thinking about it, as a small smile of satisfaction slipped across my lips. I'd thought he was going to be in Oxford for a few more days. He was supposed to be shooting footage for a new set of Broom commercials, which apparently had wrapped up early. I'd woken up to the feel of his lips tracing a very nice path down my spine, and his hands wrapping around my waist to slide up my chest. I shivered just thinking about it. Now we're walking through the mall, just a walkabout, as neither of us really needs anything at the moment. As usual there is a small crowd of hungry photographers, waiting for one of us to do something embarrassing, or funny, or romantically cute.<em>

_It's something you get used to I suppose. The constant presence of other people in your everyday life. They were almost always falling us, although most of the time they have the decency to simply stand outside of the buildings or stores we enter. Today as we strolled past a kiosk that stocked fresh flowers, Scorpius took a deep breath and jolted to a stop. I'd turned to look at him, curiosity etched in my expression. He'd grabbed my hand and pulled me off to my favorite body shop, an exclusive little boutique that specialized in body crèmes and soaps that made the skin feel luxuriously soft. It was slightly more expensive than the traditional stuff, but in my opinion, it was worth every penny._

"_What are you doing?" I laughed, letting him use a gentle pressure around my wrist to drag me toward the store._

_ He'd tossed that endearingly familiar devil-may-care smile my way, his grey eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, their sparkling only enhanced by the sharp glare of a camera's flash. They must have decided something interesting was happening just now._

_ "You'll see."_

_I'd followed willingly, because Scorpius had never led me wrong before, and within minutes I was watching as he searched the shelves of _Body Butter, _almost maniacally for something. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, he pulled a bottle of pink tinted body wash off of the shelf, and carried it over to me victoriously. He carefully kept the label hidden from me and uncapped it, holding it up to my nose._

_ "Smell this and tell me what you think." I watched his eyes as I lowered my nose to the bottle's opening and inhaled deeply. The scent was heady. It was sweet and spicy, musky and with a potency that I didn't doubt would make many a man stop and turn when they smelled it. I exhaled and opened my eyes, only realizing then that I'd closed them._

_ "What is this?" I asked, my voice reflecting the astonishment I felt, it smelled wonderful._

_Scorpius grinned, and flipped his hair back out of his eyes; he'd been growing a bang back then. He capped the bottle and grabbed the matching body crème and perfume, a few of each and strolled over to the counter, plopping all of the items down. The cashier immediately started ringing up the items. I'd grabbed his wrist when he started to reach into his back pocket for his wallet and stopped him._

"_Scorpius, what is this?" He laughed, amused as always by my inability to deal with a surprise. He reached his hand up, tangling a finger in the waist length strands of my hair, before letting go._

_ "It's you, Rose. That's how you've always smelled to me, absolutely amazing. Just like your namesake." I groaned in frustration, growing tired of the endless evasion tactics, and finally just dug my hand into one of the already packed bags. I turned the bottle around and smiled when I read the label: _Moroccan Rose.

* * *

><p>I tilted my head up, letting the splash of water break up my thoughts. I don't know why I still use this particular brand of body wash when there are so many others. I made a mental note to go shopping for a new type of body wash before hurrying through the rest of my shower. When I stepped out of the shower my skin was wrinkly from the amount of time I'd spent in there, and I sighed before grabbing one of the thick towels I keep hanging off the towel racks in the bathroom, running the fibers over my body and letting it absorb the droplets of water from my body. I tucked the end of the towel in between my breasts and snatched the shower cap off of my head, finger combing the strands back into the style Nicki had worked it into. It fell back artfully, with little work and I smiled at myself in the mirror. Time to get into my lounging clothes and watch a few episodes of <em>'As the Wand Turns'<em>.


End file.
